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"Didn't say." We reach the side door. Jack stops. I look at him. "You coming?"

"No." That gets my attention. Jack holds my gaze for a second. Then he opens the door. "Go."

I step inside. The barn is quieter than it was this morning. Most people are outside now. Sunlight comes through the open doors at the far end, cutting long rectangles across the floor.

The young man from earlier is standing near the tables. Up close, he looks younger than I thought. Twenty, maybe. Dark hair. Broad shoulders that haven't quite settled into themselves yet. His hands are in the pockets of his jacket. He looks nervous.

I walk toward him. "Hey." His eyes come to mine. Something about them stops me. I don't know why.

"I'm Martinez. Jack said you're looking for me."

The young man swallows. "Yeah." I wait. He looks at me like he's trying to decide something.

"Can I help you?" His mouth moves. Nothing comes out. Then he gives a short, nervous laugh and looks down. "Sorry."

"No problem." He lifts his head.

"You don't recognize me, do you?" The question catches me off guard. I study his face. I should know him. That's clear. But I don't.

"No," I say carefully. "I don't think I do."

His eyes stay on mine. Dark eyes. Serious. Familiar in a way I can't place. Then he says it.

"I'm Diego." Everything inside me stops. The barn, the music outside, the voices, all of it disappears.

I stare at him. He swallows again. "Your son."

I can't breathe. Not right. Not enough. The eight-year-old boy in my memory collides with the man standing in front of me. Dark hair falling over his forehead. Skinny knees. A missing front tooth. Those eyes. God. Those eyes.

"Diego?" His face changes.

"Yeah."

My son's voice. I don't know it. That nearly takes me apart.

I take one step toward him, then stop. Because I don't know if I get to touch him. I don't know what he's comfortable with. I don't know anything. He's twenty years old. My son is twenty years old. And he's standing in my barn.

"You came." It's the only thing I can manage.

Diego gives a small nod. "I almost didn't."

The honesty of it hits hard. "What changed your mind?"

He looks toward the open doors. "I got tired of thinking about it."

A shaky breath leaves me. I understand that more than he knows. "I didn't know you were coming."

"I know."

"Your mom didn't say anything."

"I asked her not to." Of course he did. This was his choice. His timing. Exactly the way it should be.

I nod. "Okay." Diego looks at me. I look at him. Twelve years sit between us. There isn't a sentence big enough for them. So I don't try to find one.

"I'm glad you're here."

His jaw shifts. For a second, he looks away. When he looks back, his eyes are bright. "Yeah?"